


9-1-1 What Is Your Emergency?

by irishfirechick



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), olicity - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Arson, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fire, Maybe smut I don't know yet, My First Fanfic, Panic Attacks, Psychological Trauma, Romance, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:53:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24045433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishfirechick/pseuds/irishfirechick
Summary: One year ago, a serial arsonist killed two Starling City firefighters but was never caught. Captain Oliver Queen of the Starling City Fire Department lost two of his men and he’s not about to let it happen again. Detective Felicity Smoak is a trained fire investigator, an avocation she decided on after her father went to prison for murder when one of the many arson fires he set ended up killing squatters in an abandoned warehouse. Is the recent spate of arson fires a copycat or is the murderous pyromaniac back to kill again? Oliver and Felicity will have to work together to find this arsonist before he hurts — or kills — anyone else. Two single people with shared trauma working together toward a common goal — who knows what can happen?9-1-1 (on Fox) Olicity AUDisclaimer: I do not own characters on Arrow or 9-1-1!
Relationships: John Diggle/Lyla Michaels, Olicity, Oliver Queen & Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Comments: 120
Kudos: 152





	1. ++Point of Origin++

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! This is my first ever fic, so be gentle, please :) 
> 
> As some of you know, I am a volunteer firefighter/EMT and hazardous materials technician (we wear the ‘moon’ suits). One of the shows I have really enjoyed lately is 9-1-1 on Fox, as well as its spinoff 9-1-1 Lone Star. I got the idea to do an Olicity AU where Oliver is a firefighter and Felicity is a cop. (If you watch the show, this would be the equivalent to Bobby and Athena’s characters). 
> 
> I’ve taken some liberties here to work better with my story. Felicity is actually a Detective with a special focus on arson investigations. Also, on the show, the main characters are on Engine 118 but I’ve changed to have them on Truck 118. (Trucks have the aerial ladders that extend up and engines put water on the fire.) If I figure out how to add photos, I’ll do so, as some of the fire tools, for example, might be foreign to some (if not all) of you! 
> 
> Biggest shout from the rooftop thanks to Muriel (NoDecaff4Me) for being my beta and Caitlin (blondeeoneexox) for being my champion. Special thanks to @quiet_dreaming for being my sounding board and putting up with all my whining and frustration. 
> 
> Hope to update this once a week, but since it’s my first fic, I can’t promise anything. Thank you for reading and please leave comments and kudos if you like what you’ve read!

[Chapter 1]

[ _BRRRRRIIINNNNGGGGGGG_ _Station 118, Structure Fire, 39 Adams Avenue, Glades District_ ] 

Oliver startles awake from a nap he didn’t realize he’d taken, throws on his boots and runs to the truck bay.  
_I really need to quit staying up so late._

The truck bay is already a flurry of activity as Truck 118’s crew gears up for their second structure fire call of the shift when Oliver chucks his station boots off and jumps into his fire boots helpfully nested inside his bunker pants right next to the officer’s side of Truck 118. He quickly pulls up the red suspenders over his shoulders - an absolutely necessary part of the gear as it holds the larger and heavier pants up - before he checks to make sure the inner harness is secure while also attaching the velcro and buttoning his bunker pants in place. 

He pulls his bunker coat and radio from the side mirror of the truck where he’d left them after their last call - a medical, helping an elderly woman who’d fallen out of bed. If it was up to him, he’d take ten medical calls in a row rather than one fire call any time of the day. 

At least those calls wouldn’t cause him to lose one of his guys. 

Oliver climbs up into the truck as Tommy and Rory jump into the back and begin to pull the air pack straps over their shoulders, tugging the release cords that free the air packs from the spot recessed into the seats. 

“Seatbelts, guys!” Oliver yells back while clipping his own into place, simultaneously throwing on the headset that allows him to both talk to his guys on the truck but also to hear radio traffic from dispatch en route to the call. 

Without headsets, the truck engine sitting beneath their feet is too loud to hear each other unless yelling at the top of their lungs. Fire trucks, engines and ladders, collectively, as they’re often called, have come a long way since the days of guys standing on the back step and holding on as the trucks raced towards the fire. 

The Glades have always been a hotbed of morally questionable activities, but two building fires in only one 24-hour period is a bit much even for this part of the city. The tension is already high, with everyone beginning to realize they may have a serial arsonist on their hands. AGAIN. It certainly doesn’t help the situation that today also marks the one-year anniversary of the Glades Warehouse arson fire that killed two of their brothers, Rene Ramirez and Max Fuller, and almost fatally injured Oliver’s best friend and mentor John Diggle. 

“Alright guys, keep your heads on a swivel. This sounds like another arson, and Fuller and Ramirez would be royally pissed if any of you tried to steal their thunder today,” Oliver jokes, trying to ease some of the now escalating stress level of his crew, and himself, if he’s being completely honest.  
_That could have been me._

Truck 118 pulls out of the station, the Federal Q siren already blaring, and races to an area the Starling City Fire Department is all too familiar with. The dilapidated brick buildings of what used to be a flourishing part of the city’s Warehouse District come into view along with black smoke barreling out of the back side of the third floor of the middle of the row walk up. As the truck comes to a stop just past the steps to the front door, the engine crews from Station 24 are already masking up with fire hoses laid out at their feet. 

“Truck 118 to Dispatch: Truck 118 on scene. We’ve got smoke showing on the 3rd floor Charlie side. Setting up Adams Avenue command.” 

[ _Dispatch: “Truck 118 initiating Adams Avenue command. Smoke showing from Charlie-side, 3rd Floor. Captain 118, we’re receiving multiple calls of people trapped on the 3rd floor, back bedroom.”_ ]

“Message received, Dispatch. Oh, and get me a second alarm, “ Oliver replies before he quickly focuses back on the topic at hand.  
_Something doesn’t look right._

Oliver, and certainly all of his brothers, are trained to do any kind of fire fighting, but beyond the professional part of the job, there’s a certain thrill at being able to rescue someone from a burning building. 

Truck and ladder companies throw ladders, adding more entries or exits to a building, sure, and the engine crews backing them up with all that water is what’s gotten Truck 118 out of more jams than he cares to admit. Their main objective still is to “Vent/Enter/Search”, or VES for short, but getting to run into a burning building without having to haul the charged hose line is an adrenaline rush he will never get enough of. 

“Tommy, grab the tools. Rory - get us up to the third floor,” Oliver yells back to the guys in the back as he starts to gear up himself, “Dispatch said they’ve got people trapped upstairs, LET’S GO!” 

Rory and Tommy jump out of the passenger side, both heading straight for the roll-up doors on the side of the truck that holds their tools. The “married set”, an ax and halligan paired together, is secured inside the cabinet with two velcro strips. Tommy reaches up and rips them away, pulling the tools off in one quick movement. This isn’t his first rodeo, but he wants to show Rory how it’s done the right way. Pulling the ax from the halligan he hands the heavy tool to his young partner. “Here, you’ve got ax duty today, bud. Always remember your training, but I’ve got your back.” This is Rory’s first big fire, and Tommy still remembers just how nervous he was years ago when he first became a firefighter alongside Oliver. 

Jumping out of the truck in one fluid motion, Oliver looks over to the burning building. He might have been on hundreds of fire calls, but something about this one feels different, he just can’t put his finger on it yet. 

By the time he gets to the front door, Tommy and Rory are already masked up and starting to force the door open with their tools and Oliver prepares to get in quick without giving the already out of control fire too much to feed on. Tommy wedges the claw end of the halligan into the seam of the already beat up and ancient-looking wooden front door. “Ok, Rory, when I say ‘hit’ I want you to hit the other side of the halligan, ok? Don’t swing until I say hit.” 

Rolling his eyes in slight exasperation, Rory replies “It’s not my first forced entry, Tommy. I got this. Let’s do it!” Tommy laughs “Ok, ok, ok. I got it.”

“Hit.” *CLANG*

“Hit.” *CLANG*

“Hit.” *CLANG*

 _*CRAAAACK*_

Splintered wood flies as Tommy pries the rest of the door open. Rory pushes forward heading for the narrow stairs of the old Row-house to the right of the entryway and they both make their way up to the third floor as Oliver is about to head into the house downstairs, their focus solely on getting up to the reported victims, not noticing the burn patterns in the 60 year old fading and peeling floral patterned wallpaper. The wooden stairs creak beneath them bearing the weight of each, which, including their fire gear, tools, and air packs, is easily 250 pounds. These stairs were DEFINITELY not built for this kind of abuse. 

Downstairs and just outside the front door, Oliver pulls the breathing mask over his face, tugging on the head straps to make sure he gets a tight seal and makes sure he’s getting a good enough airflow through his mouthpiece before he throws on his fire resistant hood and helmet. He rips open the velcro clip holding his gloves dangling in front of him, turns on the flashlight clipped to the left side of his chest, and hastily throws his hands in his fire gloves and moves in.  
_We’re running out of time._

 _“Lieutenant Merlyn to Command. I think I found something,”_ Oliver hears Tommy’s voice thunder through the radio before yelling down to Oliver. _“Cap, turn right at the top of the stair…SHIT, GET DOWN, RORY!”_

Oliver takes two steps at a time trying to get to his crew who he realizes is in some serious shit, as he watches flames boiling across the ceiling above Tommy and Rory on the 3rd floor. “Captain 118 to Command: WE NEED WATER UP HERE NOW! Get Truck 16’s aerial ladder up to the 3rd floor back bedroom windows, we’re about to flashover** up here.” 

{**flashover is when everything in a room reaches its auto-ignition temperature simultaneously - causing the entire room to catch on fire - and kills many firefighters and occupants}

They find two victims under one the bedroom windows and hand them off to the firefighters outside who’d cleared one of the bedroom windows after the last radio transmission. It’s when the engine crew gets water on the fire Oliver starts to notice an eerily familiar burn pattern on the floor - tell-tale signs of an accelerant. 

“Captain 118 to Command - This looks like arson. We’re gonna need the fire investigators here.” 

[ _Command to Captain 118. Detective Smoak is already en route._ ]  
_Detective Smoak? Who is that?_

******************************

“That was a close one, Tommy.” It’s only now, hours later, with the fire finally out and the two victims heading to the Starling City burn unit, Oliver can relax, even if only for a brief moment. His shoulders slump as the enormity of what he’d found starts to sink in.

Judging by Tommy’s face he’s not the only one feeling the exhaustion settling in. 

“Yeah, it was. We found the vics and the flames were just everywhere all of a sudden,” his friend pulls his bunker coat open and hops on the truck bumper, trying to release all the sweat and heat absorbed into his gear before he fixes Oliver with a serious look. “Reminded me of the warehou...…”

“Don’t say it, Tommy.” Oliver interrupts him before he can finish his sentence, not wanting to draw any premature conclusions himself, although he did see familiar arson fire characteristics again. “I noticed similar patterns when I got to the 3rd floor. We’ll have to wait for the investigators to arrive, but I know what I saw.” Oliver understands that even though this fire’s out, his night is just getting started. 

The second fire in only 24 hours that’s an almost certain case of arson on the anniversary of the Glades Warehouse fire? That couldn’t be a coincidence. 

Rory plods forward, his fatigue evident on his flushed face dirtied with soot, his uniform shirt completely soaked through with sweat. “Cap, we’re all wrapped up here. Gonna head back to the station to clean up and reset the truck. Want us to wait for you?” 

“Go ahead, Rory. Great job finding the vics. Nothing like getting a rescue on your first fire, eh?” Oliver pauses with a somber look on his face. “But let’s talk later, ok. I know it’s easy to be the tough guy, but talking through things is better in the long run. Take it from me. I didn’t do that and it has really messed me up.” Oliver squeezes Rory’s shoulder in reassurance, then turns away to make his way towards the flurry of police uniforms and the incident command table where he assumes he’ll find the new fire investigator he only knows the name of. Smoak, how awfully fitting… 

Getting closer he sees a very out of place petite blonde in a sea of burly looking guys in fire gear and police uniforms.That’s has to be her as he recognizes all the other guys from his years in the fire service in Starling City - and he definitely wouldn’t have forgotten if he’d met her before. His days as the city’s biggest playboy might be over, but he still appreciates beautiful women. However, now is definitely not the time to think of her that way. They’re both here for only one purpose, and that was strictly business. 

“Hi, Detective Smoak? I’m Captain Oliver...” 

“Queen, yes. I’ve heard about your, shall we say, exploits over the years, Captain.” 

“Yeah,” he cringes at her matter of fact statement about his past “that’s not exactly a part of my life I’m proud of, but, well, when you piss on a cop car, you get a reputation, right?”  
_What the fuck are you doing, Queen? Get a grip!_

“Anyways,” he clears his throat as he tries to get back on topic. “You can call me Oliver, Detective. I can take you inside and show you what I found?”

“Yes, that would be great. My team always finds fire officer input invaluable in our investigations. Also, um, I’m Felicity,” she says bashfully. Felicity reaches out to shake his hand, immediately noticing a tingling sensation when his much larger hand envelops hers. She’s completely unable to stop the sudden blush from forming on her cheeks, thinking to herself ‘wow, ok, he’s easy on the eyes.’

Oliver tilts his head slightly, the side of his mouth curling up slightly in a smile, saying “Uh, thank you?” 

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” Felicity looks away completely mortified, the biggest thought going through her head is ‘Shit. Act professional, Felicity. Act. Professional.’ 

Oliver nervously rubs his neck, chuckling “Yeah you did. It’s...it’s ok, Felicity. Ok, um, so let’s head in. I mean, that’s if you’re ready, because it’s ok if not, and…”

“…Oliver?” Felicity coughs, mercifully cutting him off. She turns to him and laughs, “my coworkers will attest to this, but _I’m_ the only one allowed to talk in sentence fragments around here, ok? Right. Ok, after you." 

Oliver stares at Felicity slightly too long, before abruptly turning towards the front door and hoping she didn’t notice.

_I could get used to hearing that laugh._

They enter the row house and both instantly notice more burn patterns along what was left of the carpet on the stairs. Usually fires start in one location, not in multiple areas at the same time. That alone is suspicious, but using accelerants like gasoline leaves burn spots when the arsonist tries to move too fast and gets sloppy or when they’re trying to cover their tracks and get rid of evidence.

The Glades Warehouse fire was still unsolved, but there weren’t any more arsons in the last year that fit his (or her) MO. 

“Captain, is this..” Felicity starts to say before Oliver interrupts her. “It’s Oliver, please.”

“Right, sorry. Ok, Oliver...is this what you were talking about?” Felicity points to the carpet burn spots and flame shadows going up the walls on the third floor landing. The pattern resembles a V from the point of origin, but there were multiple Vs on both sides of the hallway. 

Old row homes like this only had two entrances, and both were inconveniently on the first floor. The fire escapes in the back were nothing more than rusty deathtraps that people used more for smoking than getting out of a house on fire. Fire safety in the Glades was mostly an afterthought with all the money and development going to the nicer parts of town. The Glades will always be on “the other side of the tracks.”

Oliver’s jaw tightens as he looks directly at Felicity, unable to school his expression given the gravity of the situation. “Someone didn’t want these people to get out, Felicity.” 

Felicity’s expression darkens. “It was the same at the fire last night. I think Prometheus is back.” 

  
***[ _End Chapter 1_ ]***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Biggest shout from the rooftop thanks to Muriel (NoDecaff4Me) for being my beta and Caitlin (blondeeoneexox) for being my champion. Special thanks to @quiet_dreaming for being my sounding board and putting up with all my whining and frustration. 
> 
> Hope to update this once a week, but since it’s my first fic, I can’t promise anything. Thank you for reading and please leave comments and kudos if you like what you’ve read!


	2. ++Size Up++

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get stressful, but also cute, and also also funny and cute and well just read it, you'll see!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m soooo sorry for taking so long to update. 
> 
> First of all, thank you for the response, comments, kudos, and advice! Writing long-form is new to me (I’ve written poetry for a few years), but it’s something I always wanted to challenge myself to do. Thank you for the love! 
> 
> Huuuuuge thanks to the ridiculously talented Magda for the new header photo. I'm really really honored! 
> 
> Without further ado, here’s chapter two! (Told you I write poetry ;)

Oliver quickly feels short of breath, his pulse roaring in his ears, his vision tunneling around him as the gravity of Felicity’s words start to sink in. Grasping for support, but coming up empty, the last of his sight greying out into nothingness. 

“Shit. Hey. HEY, are you ok?” Felicity watches in shock as the man next to her suddenly falls unconscious on the floor.

“Frack! Stay with me, Oliver.” She crouches down beside Oliver to check his pulse and grabs her radio shouting “I need EMS to the third floor NOW.” 

Only a couple of minutes later Felicity sees a blond woman rounding the stairs and hurry over to where she is sitting on the floor with Oliver’s back leaning up against her. 

“Hey, I’m Sara. What happened?” Sara calmly asks Felicity as she starts to check on Oliver with swift and obviously very routine movements and clearly picking up on Felicity’s concern. 

“I’ve seen him like this before. I think he had another panic attack. He started getting them last year after the Glades Warehouse fire.” One of the younger firefighters Felicity had seen Oliver talk to earlier walks up to them as well. 

Moments later, Oliver begins to slowly awaken, appearing to be a little woozy. Felicity can sense Oliver’s confusion as he starts to move in front of her as though he thinks he might have fallen asleep at the station. His vision seems to be clearing up, as does the apparent understanding that he is definitely NOT in his office. He immediately pushes away and tries to jump up when he realizes he is actually laying against Felicity. 

“Whoa there, buddy. You need to stay put for a second,” Sara stops him. 

Oliver has known Sara since he’s dated her sister Laurel in high school. She has been one of the few people to have seen both sides of him up close and has stayed his trusted friend through it all. Which is why Oliver knows it’s better to relent when she looks at him with a stern expression on her face “we think you had a panic attack. What’s the last thing you remember?” 

Thoughts swirl around his jumbled mind, as he tries to wipe away the proverbial cobwebs obscuring his vision, a feeling he is all too used to after having multiple panic attacks over the last year. Oliver clears his throat. “Felicity and I, um, Detective Smoak and I were discussing the recent Glades fires and the possibility that Prometheus, the serial arsonist from last year, might be back.” 

Sara gives Roy a knowing smirk. She’s definitely familiar with a smitten Oliver even when it takes him, honestly FOREVER, to figure it out himself. Sara turns back to Oliver. “Ok. How are you feeling now? Roy, bring the O2 over and set him up on the nasal cannu…”

“SARA, I’m _fine_. Really. I just need some fresh air, ok?” Oliver begins standing up until a wave of dizziness hits him, forcing him right back down where he came from. 

Oliver sighs. He really hates feeling helpless, out of control, and unable to figure out how to stop these panic attacks from happening. “Hey...can you give me a minute? I’ll take it easy. I just need a moment to, I dunno, collect myself, I guess...” Oliver is more frustrated with himself than anything. He’s always prided himself on being able to take control of situations and he _hates_ this. 

Shaking her head at Oliver’s stubbornness, Felicity smiles, “Sure. Sara, Roy and I will just head downstai…”

“Felicity, please stay,” Oliver pleaded, hoping he didn’t sound quite as desperate as he currently felt. 

Felicity pauses, slightly tilting her head with a perplexed look on her face. “Erm...Ok. I’m right here, Oliver.” 

Oliver suddenly feels a release of tension he didn’t realize he’s been holding at her willingness to stay behind with him. He hasn’t been exactly sure if Felicity would want to stick around for someone she’s known more of as a playboy than a man who’s gone through more trauma than someone of their age should. Coping with the deaths of his parents in a car accident might have been one thing, but adding the loss of two men he’d sworn to protect felt like overcoming trauma even Hercules would swear off as too much. 

“Oliver, please stop by the bus when you come out. I really want to take some vitals on you. If not for me, do it for Rene and Max,” Sara says somewhat reproachfully, while throwing the EMS bag over her shoulder and heading downstairs. 

A wave of guilt crashes down on him as he flashes back to “The Fire”. 

To Oliver, it won’t be known as the Glades Warehouse fire. It’s just “The Fire”. The one that should have killed him, but killed Rene and Max, instead. Oliver has resigned himself to the fact that he will always believe he could have done more, taken the risks on instead of his men, or ordered them to evacuate the building sooner. 

“I’m sorry, Felicity,” Oliver spoke quietly, his eyes focusing on a random spot on the floor instead of at the beautifully compassionate blonde beside him. “I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position. I haven’t had a panic attack in a while. I guess thinking about the fire all over again and how I lost my guys, I…”

Felicity puts her much smaller hand over Oliver’s, cutting him off. “Hey. Look at me. It’s ok, Oliver. You don’t have to be embarrassed, and, trust me, I have no problem being in awkward positions with you. I mean...wait..that came out wrong. I meant that..” 

Oliver softly chuckles at her sudden babbling, unexpectedly feeling more at ease than he has in a longer time than he cares to admit. “I know what you meant, Felicity.” 

_She is so cute when she babbles. Wait. What am I saying? She’s a colleague. I can’t…_

Felicity feels a warmth spread up her cheeks as she smiles at him from the side, afraid that he’ll notice if she makes too much eye contact. “Right. Great!” Felicity nervously claps her hands together. “Think you’re ok to head down now, Oliver?”

“Yeah, let’s get out of here. I suppose you’ll have to stay for a while?” Oliver slowly stands up to his full height, noticeably towering over this surprising and petite woman that, for some inexplicable reasons, makes him start feeling things again. 

It’s not that he hasn’t gone out with any women lately, they just have been more of the casual relationship type. Anything more and he risked “catching feelings” as his younger sister Thea would say. Getting too close would eventually require opening up to someone other than his firehouse buddies. There’s no way they’d understand what he’s gone through, and even if they did on the surface, they’d run at the first sign of a panic attack. Felicity, though...she didn’t . Oliver would like to find out why. 

“Afraid so. Duty calls,” Felicity says while gesturing back towards the fire-damaged bedroom behind them. 

Oliver takes a deep breath, building up a little courage that comes as easy as breathing when fighting fires, but is strangely absent now. “Hey, um, I get off at 7 tomorrow morning. Wanna grab a coffee or something? My buddy John owns the Archer Street Grill over on...” 

“Archer Street?” Felicity smiles at him with mirth in her sapphire blue eyes, finding it very easy to banter with the ruggedly handsome — and tall, definitely tall — firefighter standing before her. “I’ve heard of that place before, but I’ve never tried it. Coffee actually sounds lovely, Oliver. I’m pretty much in a long-term relationship with coffee,” Felicity only half jokes to him. 

“How about with anyone else? I mean...actually, nevermind. I shouldn’t have asked you that,” Oliver asks and simultaneously chides himself for being so forward with someone he’s _just_ met. 

_There’s just something about her._

“Well, as you’re well aware, it’s not easy to have lasting relationships when you’re repeatedly leaving in the middle of the night to respond to investigations,” Felicity replies curiously, surprised at the question in the first place from a handsome guy she just met who is SO out of her league anyway. “So….yeah. Not seeing anyone except for hopefully my furry sloth plushie pillow later.” Felicity chuckles a bit to herself at _that_ admission, suddenly realizing how big of a nerd that must make her sound like. 

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it, then. Good luck tonight, Felicity, and I hope you get to snuggle up with something furry tonight,” Oliver winks. “See you there tomorrow at 7?” 

“Yes! It’s a date! Well, not a _date_ date, but I’ll just stop talking now in 3.2.1…” Felicity trailed off, scolding herself for letting herself babble...AGAIN. As a cop, babbling isn’t exactly something that breeds respect, so she’s learned to temper it. Well, that is until about two seconds after meeting the dashing man standing before her. 

Oliver turns his head away slightly, still looking over at those gorgeous blue eyes staring back at him. “Goodnight, Felicity. Thank you for…*coughs*...what you did for me upstairs.” 

“Of course. It was nothing. Goodnight, Oliver.” He nods, feeling as though he has to accept what she’s just said, while also knowing with an absolute certainty — it is definitely not “nothing” to him. 

***************************************

Freshly showered after pounding out almost 10 miles in the last hour on the station treadmill, Oliver walks out of the station into the crisp early morning. He loves being outside just after sunrise when there’s no noise except for the occasional delivery truck lumbering by and song birds calling out to each other. 

He laughs to himself, imagining his previous self — ‘Ollie’ — only being up this early if he hadn’t gone to sleep yet, likely too hungover to notice something as seemingly simple as a birdsong. 

Taking a quick look at his watch, Oliver sees that it’s only 6:30 am. Realizing he has a bit of time before meeting Felicity, he strides through the front door of John Diggle’s place, Archer Street Grill. As soon as the bell above the door rings signifying his arrival, John looks up from the counter where he’s talking to another customer. 

“Oliver! Good to see you, man!” John smiles and nods to the left towards the end seat at the bar “usual spot?” 

Looking down bashfully, then back up Oliver meets John’s eyes “I’m actually meeting someone here, but, uh, I was hoping to pick your brain about something first?” Oliver knows discussing active investigations, especially arson fires, with John can be a touchy subject given the injury that had ended John’s career as a fireman had been caused by an arsonist. But between yesterday’s fire and the ensuing panic attack, Oliver doesn’t see a way around it. 

“Of course. You know you can talk to me about anything. To be honest, I’ve been getting a bit stir crazy with not having the fire department anymore. The wife is actually _’encouraging’_ me to work here more,” John laughs. 

Oliver smiles knowingly at his friend. “Well, I know from personal experience that you can be a real pain in the ass when you’re bored, so I understand Lyla completely.” 

John squints his eyes at Oliver in a mock glare. “HEY NOW! Ok...you might have a point there...jerk,” muttering the last part under his breath. 

“I’m sorry, what was that last part again?” Oliver asks in feigned offense, having heard that sly little remark at the end loud and clear.

John has been a friend and attempted mentor ever since Oliver and Thea’s parents had died, even when “Ollie” was being a downright asshole to everyone around him, including the neverending line of one-night stands and the _one_ guy that had been trying to help — John himself. 

To say that John enjoyed kicking Oliver’s ass on a daily basis when Oliver and Tommy went through the fire academy would be an understatement. As an instructor, John had treated Oliver like all the other cadets, but, if anything, he had probably been harder on him knowing what Oliver was truly capable of and what had begun as a mentorship has now blossomed into a very close friendship, forged in literal fire, and hardened by so many shared experiences. 

It is this brotherhood that had always lent itself to an easy camaraderie with the two men, both comfortable giving the other shit now and then, but never in a way that was hurtful. Oliver looks up to John for his experience, yet considers himself John’s equal, as well. 

Oliver clears his throat and says “So you’ve probably been hearing about these arson fires happening again, right?” John nods as Oliver continues. “I hate to say it, but I’m seeing a lot of Prometheus’ signatures in these fires. I don’t want to get everyone worked up about it yet, but…” 

John considers him for a moment before he answers “It’s been, what, a year since we last had anything like this?” Oliver nods at that but lets John continue “Ok. Hmm. Is there a possibility this could be a copy-cat? Promy did get a lot of press, and due to whatever asshole leaked to them, more facts were released to the public than ever should have been.” 

“I’m not sure yet, to be honest.. It’s just the feeling I got when we were at this last fire on Adams Ave yesterday evening,” Oliver replys, knowing what he’d seen yesterday and seen a year ago. “One of the things you almost _literally_ beat into our heads at academy was to trust our gut, and that’s what I’m doing here.” 

John chuckles softly. “Yeah, I was pretty hard on you guys, huh? You might not have understood it back then, but it was to keep you safe so you can have a longer career than I had.” 

Oliver laughs at his friend’s statement “Man, I really hated you some days. But, at the end of the day, I knew you had a reason for it, especially for me, actually. My “Ollie days”, as Thea calls them, are not something I’m very proud of. I’d like to think I’ve redeemed myself now.” 

“You’re being way too hard on yourself, man. Out of the hundreds of guys I taught at the academy, and despite me having a personal relationship with you, you were one of the hardest working guys and still are. Your guys look up to you, as do I. You’ve more than redeemed yourself, brother,” John says. 

Oliver rubs his hands over his face before replying “Thanks, that means a lot. Just...I’m worried that losing Rene and Max last year is affecting my judgment.” 

“That’s obviously always going to be a part of you. Losing people close to you has a habit of doing that. This, though? That sounds like you’re trusting your gut. Go with that and…” John trails off as he hears the jangle of the bell and watches a short blonde woman stepping through the door. 

Looking up and seeing Oliver in front of her, Felicity smiles. “Hi, Oliver.” Oliver’s eyes light up as Felicity walks into view, realizing perhaps too late, that he’s staring and not answering her. 

“Felicity, hi. I’m really glad you came.” Oliver seems to forget John is right there for a moment as he finds himself completely enamored by the blue-eyed beauty standing in front of him. 

“Welcome to Archer Street Grill, Felicity. I’m John Diggle,” John greets her, when he realizes that he’s suddenly become a third wheel and Oliver is not actually going to introduce him. 

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Diggle. I must confess I’ve never been to your place before. I sorta tend to just grab takeout Chinese food most nights after working late,” Felicity replies bashfully, also aware she’s forgotten anyone else is there but her and Oliver. 

Tilting his head towards Oliver, “Hey, if you’re a friend of this guy here, you’re a friend of mine. You can call me Diggle or Dig. Why don’t I get you a booth so you two can talk?” John slyly winks at Oliver as he grabs a couple menus. “Right this way, Felicity.” 

Walking behind Felicity, Oliver can’t help but find himself noticing, staring even, at Felicity’s curvy ass as she’s following Diggle over to the booth. 

Of course, Diggle, Noticer of Many Things, hasn’t missed his staring either, as he raises an eyebrow at Oliver while Felicity is sitting down. Realizing he’s been caught, Oliver starts blushing but quickly gains his composure as he slides across the booth seat opposite Felicity. 

“Felicity, can I get you something to drin-” Diggle asks before Felicity cuts him off “COFFEE! Lots of coffee,” aware that she hasn’t even let him finish his question, she looks up through her long eyelashes apologetically“I’m..I’m sorry, I just _really_ need coffee this morning. Lonnnnng night. Long few nights, actually.” 

Diggle grins down at Felicity. “Trust me. I’ve been there. I’ll go grab you two some coffee. This guy over here takes his black. Do you need any creamer?” 

“Creamer would be great, oh and sugar, too, please. More sugar than is advisable for someone my size.” Felicity sends him a grateful smile, relieved she didn’t make a complete ass out of herself in the first 5 minutes of meeting one of Oliver’s friends Shaking his head and laughing, Diggle walks over to get their drinks. 

Oliver and Felicity settle into easy conversation almost immediately, something neither expect after their previous awkwardness. After Felicity finishes her second cup of coffee to his first, Oliver looks at her cheekily “I kinda feel like a third wheel to you and the coffee. Should I leave you alone for a minute?” 

“In my defense, I did warn you about this last night. Besides, I normally would be on my third cup by now, but I held back because I didn’t want to scare you before(?) our first time…” realizing her mistake she’s looking at Oliver with wide eyes “I mean our first date. Wait! I mean, not that this is a date, it’s just coffee, right? Not that I wouldn’t go on a date with you but I it would be kind of presumptuous to assume that you would go on a date with me... Just look at you, for Google’s sake. Annnnnndd now I’m rambling, which I will stop in 3-2-1.” 

Oliver, now completely enamored and charmed by this adorable blonde in front of him, finds himself stunned silent at how the words just spilled out of her but he quickly catches himself and looks right into her blue eyes“Felicity, I know we just met and you seem to know a lot more about me, than I know about you- the keyword being yet, but I would absolutely go on a date with you. In a heartbeat.” 

It is Felicity’s turn to be at a loss for words, an unusual occurrence if there ever was one. “I...wait. You can be serious. I’m so not your type.” 

_I’m no one’s type_ Felicity muttered to herself as she looked down. 

Sighing softly, Oliver folded his hands together in a sort of prayer before intertwining his fingers and setting his elbows on the table. “Look, Felicity. Despite what you might think, dating, like actually dating someone...it’s not easy for me. Girls used to pretty much just line up and it was never serious. I was very upfront about that and I honestly didn’t care if they weren’t okay with it, anyway. I wasn’t going to call them again. Hell, I couldn’t remember their _name_ the next day. But, that is _not_ who I am now.” 

“Oliver, I certainly wouldn’t have liked you then, but I see the person you are today. I see him sitting across from me right now.”

Oliver desperately tries (and fails) not to blush at Felicity’s compliment, certainly not feeling worthy of such a statement, at the very least. Not wanting to push things just yet, and being more nervous than he cares to admit, Oliver decides that a change of subject might be the best idea... _for now_. 

Oliver coughs and says “Well, um, I guess we should talk about the fire, huh?” 

Felicity’s eyes widen at the sudden topic change, but she quickly recovers her composure. “Right. Right! Of course. I mean, that’s why we’re both here having coffee that is definitely not a date. What are you thinking?” 

_What am I thinking? I’m thinking I really should ask her out on a real date. But would she say yes?_

“I hate thinking that Prometheus is back, but I also worry that the result is the same if it’s a copycat, too. Either way, I’m worried why now. Why the Glades again. Why us?” 

“Those are all valid questions, Oliver. Right now we’re just focusing on disseminating all the information we collected from the fires. I’ve seen this pattern before, but not with Prometheus.” Felicity appears hesitant to continue. 

“Oh? What do you mean?” Oliver asks, feeling a bit puzzled at her admission. 

“There’s something you probably don’t know about me, but I feel like you need to know.” 

Oliver is watching her in anticipation as she takes another deep breath before she continues “Smoak is my mom’s maiden name and there’s a reason I didn’t use my dad’s last name. It’s because he was a serial arsonist until he started a fire that killed a bunch of squatters. I’m not sure how many more fires he would have started if he wasn’t caught. My Dad is Noah K-.” 

Oliver’s eyes go wide in shocked disbelief at what he’s hearing “Your Dad is Noah Kuttler?!” 

***********************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If there’s something technical you want to know about fires/arsons/firefighting/EMS/HazMat, feel free to leave in the comments or find me on Twitter: @jodfoster. 
> 
> I *do* plan on this earning its Mature rating at some point, FYI. Not sure exactly when since I haven’t laid out every chapter yet. My goal is to update this fic about every two weeks, but working a full-time job and sometimes feeling a mushy brain after a day staring at the computer can get in the way. Kudos and comments will definitely give me encouragement, so I’d very much appreciate either or both!
> 
> Thanks to NoDecaff4Me for editing and to Katie and Caitlin (blondeeoneexox) for their encouragement. *sloppy kisses all around*


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Panic attack
> 
> You’ll see another familiar face, some broody/jealous Oliver, and get into a little more of the backstory of our faves!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Panic attack
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has commented, shared, and left kudos. I appreciate it more than you know. Hope you’ll like this update. You’ll see another familiar face, some broody/jealous Oliver, and get into a little more of the backstory of our faves! 
> 
> This chapter isn’t beta’d so all mistakes are mine!

Smoke puffed out of the roof edge as Oliver looked up through the windshield of Truck 118 towards the building ahead of them. Ladder 24 already had their aerial ladder pointed towards what would be the 5th floor of the building (if it were still being used for its intended purpose) with a steady stream of water trying to find any access point to the fire. Bricks filled up the space where windows used to be — boxes in a warehouse didn’t need windows, after all. 

Oliver had lost count of how many fires they’d fought in the last several weeks, but he knew it was more than usual. The fact that most of them were ruled as arson fires was’t lost on Oliver as they headed to yet another blaze. The responsibility on his shoulders weighed heavily while he ran in to search for anyone inside. 

Oliver had an overwhelming feeling of dread when finally reaching one of the squatters who’d taken residence inside the warehouse. He called out to them but received no response. That can’t be good. 

He crouched down to get a closer look. Between the smoky conditions and lack of windows or electricity in the building, he could barely see his gloved hand in front of his face. As he got close to what looked to be a female, he saw wavy blonde hair that had spilled out of the green hooded sweatshirt on the very likely deceased squatter. Oliver grabbed their shoulder to turn them over only to see Felicity’s blue eyes staring up at him. Before Oliver could even process what had just happened, the floor gave out beneath both of them. Oliver reached out in a desperate attempt to grasp onto anything but came with nothing more than thin air. “FELICITY!!!” he cried as he…

[CRASSSSSHHHHH]  
Oliver found himself on the floor next to his cot, completely tangled up in his sheets now damp with sweat. He ripped the covers off and ran to the locker room where he proceeded to throw up what little remained of his paltry dinner the night before. Oliver glanced at his watch. “Only 4:30 in the morning,” he muttered to himself. “No sense in trying to get back to sleep.” He splashed cold water on his face before changing into gym shorts and running shoes. Let’s see if I can run that nightmare away. 

*********************************

Felicity woke up with a start, and found papers strewn all over her and the bed. She’d fallen asleep. In her clothes. Again. 

I really need to figure out that whole ‘work/life’ balance thing. 

Something was really nagging at her and her brain, in true ‘mysteries are meant to be solved’ fashion, just wouldn’t let it go. The last thing she remembered was trying to find a connection between the recent spate of fires and the ones from last year. And after the conversation about her father with hot firefighter Oliver — Whoa, there, Smoak. He’s just a colleague — she was convinced there was some kind of connection between her father and Prometheus. 

Felicity gathered the scattered arson case files and threw them into her deep purple custom Kate Spade shoulder bag along with her laptop. She was in a man’s world, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have a bit of style with her accessories. Was it as practical as a backpack or messenger bag? Probably not, but it was one of the few areas she could still display a little femininity. With a heavy sigh, Felicity jumped in the shower, and lamented the fact that she could really use a nice, um, long self-care bath, and decided, instead, to make a visit to Oliver. 

******************************  


Felicity parked her cherry red Mini Cooper on the street across from Station 118. She debated leaving her bag, but decided to bring it anyway. Maybe it would help to show her files and compare to what Oliver put together in his after action reports. 

*chirp chirp*

She armed her car alarm (you can never be too safe in the Glades), looked up and down the street, then ran across towards the open station bay doors set inside a 3-story red brick structure. Felicity glanced up towards the second floor windows as she walked inside, wondering if that was where Oliver slept, AND just how big his bed was, AND if anyone would hear certain activities when she— 

*OOOMPH*

Felicity gasped when she realized she’d just walked straight into a rather handsome 6-foot tall firefighter with short cropped brown hair, and wearing navy blue pants, black work boots, and a navy blue t-shirt with the SCFD maltese cross embroidered on the left chest. “Oh my GOD, I’m so sorry! My brain was *waves around* somewhere else. Are you ok?” 

Tommy chuckled “Yes, I’m fine. Haven’t had a girl run into me in a while.” He smiled down at the tiny blonde before him, amazed at his luck that a beautiful blonde woman appeared out of nowhere. 

Felicity blushed profusely and stammered “Oh...I wasn’t...I’m sorry...I, um, is Oliver here? I need to talk to him about a case.” How do I keep getting into these situations?

Recognition passed across his face. “You just missed him. He had to go to headquarters downtown for a meeting. He should be back soon, though. Do you want to wait upstairs in the kitchen with me and the guys? I promise we won’t bite. I’m Tommy, by the way.” Tommy gestured back towards the open air 2nd floor kitchen that had a long wooden table currently with several faces who had clearly been watching their interaction. 

Felicity looked up at everyone nervously and tried to smile as naturally as she could, but it came across more like a slight grimace. “Yeah, sure, that...that would be fine, I guess. It’s not too much trouble, right, because I can come ba--”

Tommy cut off her ramble and assured her that it was, in fact, no trouble at all. Besides, it’s not often that a pretty girl wanders into the station unannounced, and he’d very much like to get her phone number. He laughed under his breath that Oliver would be so jealous when he found out he missed out on such a golden opportunity, as it were. 

“Come on, Felicity. We have plenty of coffee and a local Girl Scout troop even brought us a couple dozen donuts earlier.” It was at that moment Tommy noticed her police badge clipped to her belt. “Which, as a cop, I’m sure you’re familiar with.” Tommy winked at Felicity and started walking away. 

“HEY! I mean, ok, I do like a donut now and then but that’s a really unfair stereotype, though I suppose there are some of my fellow officers that might fit the description…” 

Like that asshole Clay Whitehead who can seriously fuck right off with his “All Lives Matter” bullshit, but I digress. Wait, can my thoughts digress? Shit, Tommy is going to think I’m crazy standing here staring.

“Felicity, I was just joking. Come on so everyone WILL STOP STARING.” Tommy emphasized as he glared at his squad mates who all of a sudden had somewhere else to look. 

She liked to think of herself as pretty confident, but Felicity white-knuckled the railing as she trepidatiously climbed the stairs up to the kitchen. Felicity was no stranger to being around a bunch of guys as both police and fire departments are still predominantly male-dominated. Though she was but one woman, she hoped she could eventually change that through mentorship and outreach in the community. Protecting and serving had its own rewards, but Felicity found the most value in being a Big Sister in the local Big Brothers Big Sisters program. That her little sister was the late René Ramirez’ daughter Zoe was even better. Her goal was to get Zoe out of the foster system as soon as possible. Zoe deserved better after her father died in the line of duty. 

“What brings you down to the Glades and Station 118 this morning, Felicity? You mentioned a case?” Tommy asked as he wandered over to the overused but dependable brewer to pour two fresh cups of coffee in diner-style official SCFD mugs. Felicity noticed that they seemed to have a ton of random donated mugs, but he chose official mugs. Was he trying to impress me? 

After filling the mugs, he motioned with his head for Felicity to follow him to the other end of the table from the nosy crew. He handed the piping hot mug of V-Tach* Espresso Blend Firehouse Coffee over to Felicity and said “So, what’s your story, Felicity?” 

Felicity tilted her head to the side and squinted at Tommy. “My story? I’m pretty boring. I don’t think I have a ‘story’”, Felicity emphasized with air quotes. 

“Come on, Felicity. Everyone has a story. Here, I’ll start,” Tommy replied, hoping to put her more at ease. “My Dad is Malcolm Merlyn. He’s pretty well known around here, so I’m guessing you’ve heard of him?” Felicity nods and Tommy continues. “I’ve known Oliver since we were kids. My Dad kinda helped him and Thea out after their parents were killed.” 

Felicity’s eyes were as big as saucers. “I...I didn’t know his parents were killed. He didn’t mention it to me.”

“Ehh, well, I guess it’s not something that just comes up in conversation, right? ‘Oh, by the way, my parents are dead. Do you want a mocha or a latte?’” Tommy nervously laughed. 

Felicity forced out a chuckle. “Heh, yeah, I suppose not. So how did you end up here?” Felicity gestured around them. “It’s definitely not a profession everyone goes into, you know? It’s sort of an insane thing to intentionally put yourself into a position to run INTO a burning building. But but but, um, not that I think you’re crazy. That’s not what I meant, I--”

Tommy smiled and lightly touched her shoulder to put her at ease. “Felicity, it’s fine, and you wouldn’t be the first woman to call me crazy. I’m just saying.” 

Felicity visibly relaxed. “I sometimes have a problem with my brain to mouth filter in that it just up and disappears sometimes. Please...go on.” The longer she kept him talking, the less time she’d have to go into her own past, and that seemed like a better idea right now. She was still a bit shaken at how quickly she’d told Oliver about her father. Opening up to people wasn’t really her “thing”. 

“Honestly, I was failing out of multiple colleges and my Dad said he was gonna cut me off unless I shaped the fuck up. He really wanted me to take after him and, I guess, eventually take over Merlyn Global, but my heart just wasn’t in it. When Oliver said he was applying for the fire academy, I said ‘fuck it, why not’ and applied at the same time.”

“Wait, so you just signed up for the hell of it? Most people I know had someone in their family that was a cop or firefighter.” Or an arsonist.

“Yeah, and like, chicks dig firefighters, right?” Tommy winked at Felicity, which inevitably caused her to blush. 

Felicity was not the kind of person people hit on, nor was she easily swayed by attractive men. Past relationships had undoubtedly contributed to this “you better show me not tell me” attitude she had — notably her relationship with her father — but working in the police force meant you not only had to have thick skin, but an ability to see through BS. 

“Ok, Felicity, it’s your tur—”

[BRRRRRIIINNNNGGGGGGG Station 118, Cardiac Arrest, 24 Rickards Street, Apartment 2] 

Relieved, Felicity exclaimed “Saved by the bell! I mean...I hope they’re ok. Goddess, that sounded bad.”

Tommy appeared to think about what she said for a moment, but continued “Are you ok waiting here? We shouldn’t be gone too long.” 

Felicity grimaced at her faux paux. “Yeah, sure, ok. That works.” 

Tommy ran down the stairs, jumped in his bunker pants, and hopped in the truck. The siren started right as the truck and ambulance were leaving the station. As it trailed off in the distance, Felicity finished her coffee and got up to put her cup in the sink. Her eyes started to wander around the engine bay below, and, as she looked towards the entrance, she took in a quick breath. How did I miss Max and René’s memorial?

Felicity couldn’t believe she missed it when she first got to Oliver’s firehouse, but that’s probably because she literally ran into another human being. After making her way down from the kitchen, Felicity found herself standing in front of the memorial for Max Fuller and her Little Sister Zoe’s Dad. Her heart broke a little more just seeing the photos knowing that Zoe will never see her Dad again. While Felicity had no intention of ever seeing her father again, at least she had the choice. 

A quiet voice popped up behind her. “Zoe’s Girl Scout troop helped design the memorial as a service project.” 

“JEEESUS, Oliver! You scared the crap out of me,” Felicity yelled as she clutched her chest. “Don’t you EVER scare me like that again, Mister. It’s a good thing I haven’t had my normal amount of coffee by now or you’d have given me a heart attack!” 

“Umm...at least you’d have been in a good place for it?” Oliver had the decency to look chastised but couldn’t help the small smile that curled up the side of his mouth. “I didn’t expect you here, Felicity. Is something wrong?” 

Felicity took a deep breath to center herself. “I’ve just been going over the arsons again and something doesn’t add up. I thought maybe we could talk? Hopefully that will let me finally sleep for a change. I’m like a dog with a bone, which, now that I think about it, sounds way dirtier than I intended.” 

Oliver couldn’t help but laugh at her accidental play on words. “Riiiiight” he winked then cleared his throat. “Of course, Felicity, let’s go to my office.” 

[BEEEEEP BEEEEEEP BEEEEEP BEEEEEP]

Truck 118’s back-up alarm beeped loudly as the truck backed into the station. Tommy jumped out of the truck, not having missed the fact that Oliver had obvious heart eyes directed right at none other than the beautiful blonde Felicity that he’d just left at the station a short while ago. 

Tommy sauntered over to Felicity and Oliver and their heart eyes. “I see you’ve found Oliver, Felicity.” 

Oliver squinted back at Tommy, and tried not to make it overly conspicuous that he had slightly clenched his jaw. “You’ve already met?” He coughed and continued “And when did, um...uh, when did that happen?” 

Felicity looked back and forth at Tommy and Oliver, somewhat perplexed at the way Oliver was acting. Is he...is he jealous? There’s no way, right?

“Settle down, Ollie. She got here while you were out and I offered to keep her company until you got back.”

Felicity sensed an awful lot of tension between the two men — with her being the subject — and that is, most certainly Not Something That Happens™ to her. “Tommy was the consummate gentleman, Oliver.” Ok, now I think they’re *both* jealous. 

Tommy stared right back at Oliver, and waggled his eyebrows. “And besides, Ollie, the call came in before I could get her number.”

“Tommy,” Oliver warned. 

Tommy threw his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, just giving you shit, buddy. Gotta go do some paperwork or...something…” Tommy made sure to try and sneak another wink at Felicity on his way over to the station office, which elicited yet another growl from Oliver. Tommy threw his head back and laughed as he swaggered away from them. 

“Why does he always have to get in on my territory,” Oliver muttered under his breath. 

“What was that, Oliver?” Felicity is pretty sure what she heard him say, but also doubted her own ears. Jealousy wasn’t something she usually associated with herself. Starling City had plenty of beautiful women, after all, and hell, some could even be Victoria’s Secret models. She didn’t have a poor opinion of her looks, but she was well aware that she wasn’t considered a ‘10’ by any modern standards, a sexist rating system if she’d ever heard one. 

“Nothing, nothing at all. Shall we?” Oliver gestured towards the officer’s wing of the station. Felicity was more than happy to watch him walk in front of her. He must work out a lot. He really fills those pants out well. 

The hallway was decorated with photos of past fire chiefs, captains, and lieutenants, including a younger John Diggle. The plaques had the official photos with a chosen family photo featured below. John looked so proud to be standing with Lyla and her baby bump, who later turned out to be Sara Diggle. Felicity paused for a moment when she realized how much John lost when he was injured in that fire. 

“Felicity?” 

“Oh! Sorry. I was glancing at all the photos in the hallway and couldn’t help but notice John’s here. He lost everything, Oliver. Everything. I can’t fathom...” Felicity hated that the fires affected her so much. Her mom Donna always thought she was sort of an empath, taking in more emotions than anyone else. Felicity downplayed it, because she believed in science, and empaths, at least to her, were a mystery she had yet to solve. 

Oliver considered her for a moment. “I know, Felicity. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about what John lost and who Rene and Max left behind. I still feel like it’s my fault.” Oliver stared at the floor, unable to meet her eyes for reasons he could not explain. Felicity knew a troubled soul when she saw it. She’d seen enough of that growing up when her mom had to drag her to work at the casino any time the babysitter fell through. People coped in different ways, whether drinking more to numb the pain, distracting their internal doubts with any number of excesses available in Vegas, or gambling money they didn’t have. 

Felicity turned towards him and gently rested her hand on his shoulder. “Oliver, look at me.” He slowly raised his head, his blue eyes tinged with sadness. Felicity’s voice cracked - men crying is a major weakness of hers. “You didn’t set the fire. You didn’t cause their deaths. They came to work knowing full well they may not get to go home that night. They, like you, knew the risks. Trust me, blaming yourself only leads to a path of self-loathing with no end.” 

Oliver sighed and let his shoulders drop, though he didn’t want to let the comfort he felt with her touch go so soon. He placed his hand over hers as a silent thank you and Felicity let out a silent gasp at his touch. Whoa. Did he feel that, too?

Some minutes passed with Oliver and Felicity caught in this moment that surprised and intrigued them both. “Are you still ok talking right now, Oliver? Because I can come—”

Oliver quickly interrupted her before she became tongue-tied in another cute ramble. “You’re here, I’m here, let’s do it.” 

Felicity would have choked if she’d had a drink, but instead she profusely blushed back at him. Oliver quickly realized what he said once he saw her reaction, but before he could apologize, Tommy came bounding down the hallway. Oliver and Felicity each took a couple steps back like they’d been caught stealing a kiss in the hallway between high school classes - something Tommy most certainly noticed. 

“Tommy, hey, we were just heading to my office to talk about the arson fires.” 

Tommy smirked so only Oliver could see him, and slapped him on his back as he passed. “Sure, boss. I’m heading to the gym. Felicity, if you wanna go out for a drink after work, I get off at 6 tonight!” 

Oliver gritted his teeth. “Tommy…”

Tommy laughed to himself as he walked away. That’s twice he got to Oliver today. “Might be a new record,” Tommy said quietly under his breath. 

“Felicity, I’m sorry about Tommy. He can be...a handful. He loves to mess with me, and, well, apparently I’m an easy target.” 

Felicity giggled. “Oh, I think he’s cute, and, besides, it’s kinda fun to watch you squirm a bit. Now, come on before we get interrupted again.” She squeezed his shoulder to get him to move from where his feet were currently glued to the floor. He’s totally jealous! Oliver must know he is way hotter than Tommy. 

Oliver turned towards Felicity with his head tilted to the side. “What was that, Felicity?” 

“Hmm, what? I didn’t say anything.” Shit. 

**************************

Oliver’s office was simple, maybe even utilitarian by some standards. It was also practical and so very Oliver. An aluminum desk was bolted to the wall on the left side with bookshelves above lined with firefighting textbooks and various unhung award plaques. Right next to the door was an uncomfortable looking office chair, probably to intimidate anyone who had to sit there. A round aluminum table with three of the same type of office chairs sat off to the right side of the office, currently full of several manila folders scattered around. 

Up against the wall and right below the window, on the other hand, was a very comfortable looking leather couch with an SCFD throw blanket draped across the back and two Harry Potter-themed throw pillows. 

“You read Harry Potter?” 

Oliver nervously rubbed his thumb against his fingers and shrugged. “My baby sister Thea really liked them so I used to read them to her until she learned to read. It brought us a lot closer after our parents were killed and she insisted I add a bit more “life” into my office.” 

“OMG, Oliver. I looooove Harry Potter. I’ve read all the books so many times, I could probably recite lines from them at this point.” Felicity suddenly looked mortified. “Don’t you DARE tell my colleagues about this. It’s hard enough being taken seriously as a female officer, let alone a closet nerd.” 

Oliver grinned at Felicity then tapped her nose. “Well, I, for one, like this closet nerd.” 

Did he just *boop* me? Oh no. I’m blushing again. How many times is that today??

Oliver grabbed a chair out from the table and said “Shall we?” Felicity sat down and looked over the files that appeared in complete disarray. After pushing her chair in, Oliver pulled out the chair next to her and sat down. Felicity immediately noticed how good he smelled and imagined what it would be like to snuggle up next to him on that couch. 

“I’ve been pouring over these files, Felicity. I can’t get this case, or well, these cases out of my head. It’s been keeping me up at night.” Oliver seemed overly stressed and a bit sleep deprived. She’d just chalked it up to the life of a full time firefighter not getting a good night’s sleep with all the calls they get dispatched to. Felicity considered that it must be more than that. 

Felicity pulled her notepad and files out of her shoulder bag and plopped them down on top of his. She grabbed her favorite already very chewed on red pen, proceeded to put it in her mouth, and flipped to her most recent scribbles masquerading as notes. Her red pen was almost like a security blanket to her and she believed she could think better as long as she was chewing on it. 

“I requested records from my dad’s arson fires. There are just too many similarities to the Glades fires, and I just...I don’t know. I feel like we’re missing something that connects them, Oliver.” 

Oliver pondered what she said and continued. “But your Dad has been in prison for years now, right? Are you sure it’s not something common to these kinds of fires? Accelerant used, etc.?”

Felicity hesitated for a few seconds. “Yes, there are certainly commonalities here, but there’s more to this than that. When I asked for my Dad’s records, I had a hunch and also requested the visitor logs. What if...no, nevermind.” 

“What if what, Felicity? Something John taught me early on is to trust your gut. What is your gut telling you?” 

Felicity chewed her pen cap so much that it broke, which startled her and Oliver equally. “Eww, sorry, that’s gross. Bad habit of mine… Ok, this is going to sound weird, but what if our arsonist got tips from my Dad? He wasn’t caught for a long time, so he was obviously successful.” Felicity shuddered at the thought. You think you know someone and then they surprise you by murdering innocent people. She really didn’t want to have to go talk to him after all this time. 

*VWOOORP VWOOORP* *VWOOORP VWOOORP*

Felicity’s eyes got huge as she reached in her bag for her phone. She nervously laughed “Uh that’s my phone. My ringtone is the TARDIS.” 

“The...TARDIS? What is a TARDIS?” 

*VWOOORP VWOOORP* *VWOOORP VWOOORP*

“It’s from Doctor Who. Hold on, I should get this.” 

Oliver raised his eyebrow and smiled, then whispered to himself “What the hell is Doctor Who?” 

[“I am calling for Detective Smoak. This is Corrections Officer Ramsey from the Nevada State Prison.”]  
“Oh, hi. This is she. I wasn’t expecting a call so quickly.”  
[“Right, well I was going to send along the visitor logs you requested, but there’s only one name listed here and it didn’t seem necessary.”]

“Umm, ok? I’d still like them if you don—”  
[“The only name listed here to visit Noah Kuttler is someone named Adrian Chase.”]

“Adrian Chase? Ok, thanks, Officer Ramsey. Appreciate the call.”   
[“No problem, miss. Have a good day.”]

“Oliver do you know someone by th—” 

Felicity looked over to Oliver who looked like all the blood had drained from his face. He was gripping the edge of the table so hard that his fingertips were white. “Felicity, I went to high school with Adrian. Please understand that I’m not that guy anymore, but...I kinda had sex with his prom date in a storage closet next to the ballroom. He never forgave me.” 

She tried to hide the shock in her face, but was woefully unprepared for what Oliver just shared with her. 

“Felicity, I think Adrian is trying to get back at me. I think Adrian Chase is Prometheus.”


	4. ++ Primary Search ++

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver is already smitten and Felicity visits her dad in prison! Dun dun dunnnnnnnn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn’t beta’d so all mistakes are my own. I thought I’d have a new chapter very long ago, but I hope this is worth the wait. As always, if you have questions about anything in the story, please ask. I try not to put too much jargon in it, but it’s the language I speak every day and some stuff might slip through. Also, I wrote a big chunk of this chapter a while ago, so forgive me if I have some inconsistencies :) Thank you for sticking with me and reading my attempt at fan fic! 
> 
> Thanks, again to Magda for the gorgeous cover photo!

Oliver couldn’t shake the revelation from his meeting with Felicity. Adrian Chase. That’s a name he hadn’t heard in years. Oliver was much less of a man back then than he believed he was today. His mindset was essentially that if you believe you have nothing else to live for, why not do what makes you feel good in the moment? And boy did he have moments. Too many moments to count, definitely too many names to remember. When Oliver saw Chase’s date outside the ballroom at the prom, he had one thing in mind — getting a quick fuck and his infamously forgiveable girlfriend Laurel never finding out about it. 

Consequences for his actions? Not from his parents Robert and Moira. He was the golden child and heir to the Queen Consolidated throne. His parents always bailed him out. Oliver knew he didn’t deserve it, not even close. At the time, though, putting up with an overbearing girlfriend and the indignity of being made to actually attend high school were enough to let Oliver believe he did. 

That his previous billionaire playboy antics are coming back to bite him today shouldn’t have come as a surprise. The cost of lies is a debt that must eventually be paid, after all. In Oliver’s case, though, that debt was paid with the lives of two of his men — a fact not lost on Oliver this morning as he readied for another shift at the firehouse. 

Tommy looked up from where he was washing the Truck when Oliver walked in. Tommy took a lot of pride in keeping the fire apparatus clean and polished. It’s usually something the probies did, but Tommy believed that he should set a good example for the younger guys on the crew. At the firehouse, everyone was ‘one of the guys’, no matter how they identified. In fact, one of the guys Tommy went to fire academy, named Paul Strickland, is transgendered. Paul ended up transferring to Coast City FD when his police officer boyfriend Carlos got a job as a Detective, much to Tommy’s dismay. He saw how good of a firefighter Paul was and hoped he’d eventually get transferred to Station 118. You end up getting really close in the academy since you live and breathe fire with the same group for six months. In many ways, brotherhood is bred in the academy. 

“Hey Ollie, what’s up?” Tommy asked. 

Oliver grumbled under his breath. “I really wish you’d call me Oliver, Tommy.” 

Tommy stood up and laughed then walked over to Oliver and slapped him on the shoulder. “Buddy, I’ve been calling you that since we were big enough to steal Raisa’s cookies. There’s no way in hell I’ll ever stop calling you Ollie.” 

Oliver glared at Tommy and then laughed along with him. “I suppose you have. Those cookies were something, weren’t they? We should have her make some for us and the guys, Tommy.” 

“I think she might be a bit busy running her restaurant to make us cookies, Ollie.” 

“Hmm, you’re probably right. Bet she’d make them if I took Felicity there for dinner and said they were for her?” Oliver grinned. 

Tommy stared at Oliver for a second then smirked while he waggled his eyebrows. “Well well well, Ollie, I do believe you’re smitten with one Ms. Smoak.” 

“I...yeah. I really am. She’s remarkable, Tommy. I know it hasn’t been that long since she and I met, but I’m drawn to her. I had a nightmare the other night that featured Felicity. When I woke up, I considered calling her to make sure she was ok. It really freaked me out. I still haven’t told her about it yet. I don’t want to scare her off.”

“Ollie, why would that scare her?” Tommy asked, somewhat perplexed at the admission. “She was there for you when you had your panic attack. If that didn’t scare her away, I think you’re fine.” 

Oliver contemplated what Tommy said. It wasn’t in Oliver’s nature to accept that anyone could have actual and real feelings for him after the way he was in his youth. He knew he was a changed man who grew up a lot since joining the fire service. At the same time, there was always a fear that his past would never miss a chance to come back and bite him. 

“First of all, we’re not even dating, we haven’t known each other that long, and,” he paused, “she knows about my past.” 

“I hate to break this to you, brother, but everyone knows about your past. Hell, the lady at the dry cleaners knows about your younger ‘peeing on a cop’ days. I wouldn’t worry about it. But anyways, what’s the deal with your nightmare? By the way, it would be more fun if it was a sex dream, you know.” 

Oliver rolled his eyes at that comment, because he most certainly hasn’t thought of Felicity that way. At all. Or more than once or twice, give or take every single day. He choked on his saliva as he swallowed in a failed attempt to clear those very hot thoughts away. 

Oliver found his shoes extremely fascinating all of a sudden. “Remember that warehouse fire over on Bett Street?” Tommy nodded and Oliver continued. “I was up on the second floor doing a search and found a body, a female. When I turned her over, it was Felicity staring up at me. Before I could even grasp what was happening, the floor gave way, and then I woke up on the floor next to the cot. It felt so real, Tommy. I haven’t had a nightmare like that since Mom and Dad died.”   
What Oliver didn’t mention is that the thought of having another nightmare where Felicity dies has made him afraid to go to sleep at night, staying up until exhaustion forces him to finally pass out. 

“I still think you should tell her, man. Who knows, maybe it will help?”

Oliver sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right, Tommy. Here, let me help you with the Truck.” 

********************************  
Felicity parked her rental — a cherry red Mini Cooper, because why not? — in a faded visitor’s spot at Nevada State Prison. The entire parking lot was cracked from the hot Nevada sun, though it appears someone at least made a feeble attempt at filling the cracks in the last decade. Not as much can be said for the cracks in Felicity’s heart, however. 

Her apprehension came off in waves and Felicity was very glad she decided to put on extra deodorant today so she didn’t end up with pit stains from profusely sweating. She wasn’t sure why she was apprehensive. She didn’t miss her Dad. She hated what he did, who he’d become. In her mind, she was fatherless. A real father wouldn’t abandon his family to become a criminal. Hell, a real father wouldn’t become a criminal in the first place. 

Felicity locked her service weapon in her own custom-designed biometric safe she kept beneath the driver’s seat. Were there off the shelf safes that were perfectly reasonable and safe? Sure, but perfectly reasonable and Felicity Smoak were rarely uttered in the same sentence. 

As to the gun, she would have to check it when she got inside, anyway. No point in bringing it with her, even though it made her feel safer. “He can’t hurt you anymore, Felicity” she muttered to herself. No more than he already had, anyway. It always frustrated Felicity how emotional wounds seemed to stick around so much longer than physical ones. 

The police academy and even the SCPD had programs now to help with the emotional trauma they had or might one day experience. Felicity knew the techniques worked in theory, but she could never find the time to try them. Truthfully, she never really made the time. She felt much easier listening to people share their problems than wanting to discuss her own. Meditation never seemed to take with her, either, her genius IQ brain never wanted to shut the hell up. 

Felicity’s police uniform didn’t exactly call for heels, but walking in them made her feel a confidence she didn’t quite get from regular uniform shoes. Her six inch red Manolo Blahniks clacked loudly on the pavement as she stepped towards the prison entrance. “Now or never, Felicity.” She sheepishly looked around. “I really need to stop talking to myself.” 

***********  
“Felicity Smoak?” the guard barked, which startled Felicity out of her unfortunately timed Oliver daydream. Her notebook unceremoniously clattered to the floor.   
Guiltily, Felicity quickly stood up. “H..hi, that’s me,” she replied as she gathered her things. She quietly mumbled to herself “Get it together, Smoak. You’re a damn detective for Google’s sake.” 

“What was that, Miss Smoak?” The guard already looked annoyed at having to do literally anything today. The prison didn’t look like it got many visitors, certainly not for Noah Kuttler. Or so she thought. 

“Nothing, sorry. I-” 

“Inmate Kuttler isn’t going to be available for a little while. He’s already had his one allowed visitor today. Since you’re his *checks notes* daughter, we’re going to make an exception for you, but next time you should probably call ahead. We won’t do this again.” 

There won’t be a next time, Felicity thought to herself. 

“I’m sorry, you said he’s already had a visitor?” Felicity couldn’t think of anyone who would have visited her father. He had no friends, but certainly had his share of enemies. Anyone other than...Adrian Chase. “Was his visitor an Adrian Chase?” 

The corrections officer looked down at his log sheet. “Miss, you know I can’t share that information-”

Felicity pulled out her badge, thrusting it at him perhaps a little too forcefully, as she was already annoyed at having to wait even longer to see her father when she was loathe to see him again ever in her life. 

“Hi, Officer?”

“MacKenzie” he grumbled through his now gritted teeth. 

“Officer MacKenzie, right. Perhaps I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Detective Felicity Smoak from the Star City Police Department. I’ve already spoken to Officer Ramsey to get a copy of the past visitor’s logs. Shall I ring him up and tell him you’re not cooperating all of a sudden, Mr. MacKenzie?” 

“Officer MacKenzie-”

“Right. My mistake.” Felicity internally high fived herself for getting under someone’s skin who was doing his damndest to do the same to her. How dare he? Felicity had just about had it with men trying to intimidate her. 

The officer looked around nervously. “No...no that won’t be necessary. Ahh right, I see here that they signed in under A. Chase. Hmm, that’s strange. We usually require them to sign in with their full na-” 

Shit.   
“When did he leave?” Felicity almost yelled. 

He paused for just a moment too long. 

“I said...WHEN. DID. HE. LEAVE?” Felicity had less than zero patience for this fucking guard. People died and her Oliver could die. She needed to find out what Adrian was planning and when. Later she could dwell on just referring to him as her Oliver. Felicity distinctly did NOT have time for that right now. “What is your angle, Adrian?” Felicity whispered to herself before glaring at the guard once more. 

“Miss, I mean, Detective, he left here about an hour ago. He, um, mentioned something about needing to catch a plane up to the pacific northwest. I’m not sure why he shared that with me-” 

“Thank you. Now take me to see my father.” 

*************  
Felicity sat down on a metal chair that looked like it leapt out of a 1950s government duck and cover video. The legs screeched against the painted concrete floor as she scooted up to the bulletproof glass partition. An old white telephone handset that hadn’t seen a Clorox wipe, or anything resembling a cleaning cloth for that matter, in fifteen years, was mounted to the right side of a faded green metal partition that separated each meeting ‘area’. 

Despite dealing with soot-coated crime scenes, and, unfortunately, human remains, the filthy visitor’s phone was more than she wanted to deal with. Felicity pulled out one of the wet naps she always kept in her pockets, purse, coat, you name it, and wiped the handset as best she could. It wasn’t lost on her how black the wipe was after she was finished. Felicity shuddered then looked up as the heavy metal door on the other side of the partition groaned as it scraped open along the floor. 

Felicity wasn’t even certain what she’d get out of this meeting, but now that people she really cared about were at risk, she had to try. 

Inmate Noah Kuttler shuffled over to the carbon copy metal chair waiting for him, the clattering of his leg irons echoed across the room. Felicity couldn’t help but notice the knowing smirk plastered across his face. 

“Felicity. My favorite daughter-”

“I’m your only daughter, Dad,” Felicity gritted through her teeth. 

Noah chuckled. “Well, I suppose you’re right about that. What brings you to my humble abode, Felicity? To be honest, you’re the last person I would expect to visit me here.” 

Felicity clutched the phone so tightly her fingertips turned white. “Trust me, Dad. I was hoping to see you exactly never.” 

She hated him, a feeling she rarely had for anyone. Holding onto anger is like holding onto a hot coal, and all that new age mumbo jumbo, she thought. Felicity dealt in facts not trying to ‘manifest happiness’ in her life. Did that actually work for anyone, anyway? 

Anger flashed across his face so quickly that Felicity almost didn’t notice it. “Felicity, I-” he said with a sigh. 

Felicity interrupted him. She’d heard it before. She’d heard it all before. “Dad, don’t. Maybe one day I’ll consider an attempt at forgiveness, but that’s not happening ANY time soon. Save your breath.” She paused. “Please.” 

“I suppose I deserve that. You know that everything I did was for you and your Mom, right? I did it to protect you. Those fires I, um, allegedly, started were to pay back my loans. No one was supposed to get hurt. If I didn’t do what Gallo asked...he was going to hurt you, Felicity. I had no choice.” 

Noah stared down at the cracked and peeling army green paint that coated the surface of the long visitor’s table as he tried to readjust the phone to his ear. Felicity was less than confident of her father’s admission of guilt, let alone that he did what he did to supposedly protect her and her mom Donna. 

“Dad...Noah...I’m not here to rehash your crimes. I’m here to-”

“See why I’ve been meeting with Adrian Chase?” 

As much as she tried, Felicity could not stop the shock that was now evident on her face. “How did you-” 

“Oh Felicity. I really wish you wouldn’t have gotten involved in this.” Noah sighed, seemingly resigned to his and now her fate. “GUARD!” he bellowed. 

The guard rolled his eyes then, in apparently no hurry at all, sauntered over to where Noah was sitting. “What is it, inmate? You afraid of this little blonde girl? I don’t think she can do anything to you, inmate.” 

Noah growled. “That little girl is my daughter and if you keep disrespecting her, she’ll not only make sure the next paycheck includes a pink slip, but she’ll make sure you never find another job in this state again, Officer.” 

The guard swallowed thickly and bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Miss. I meant no disrespect. I’m...I’m real sorry.” He started to walk back towards the heavy door that was all that separated the general population from the visiting room. 

“Oh, guard? I’m going to need more time here with my daughter. I trust that won’t be a problem?” The guard shook his head and pretended he could no longer hear the conversation between Felicity and her father. 

“It all started with a strange letter about a year and a half ago…”

****************************************************  
Felicity stumbled to her car, wholly incapable of processing what her father just told her. If what he said was true, Chase was planning another arson fire, and this time he was targeting none other than Oliver himself. She had to get back. She had to warn him…

“Hello? Felicity, is that you?” Oliver answered groggily. 

“Oliver! Hi! Ok, I didn’t even realize I’d dialed you. Oh God, did I wake you? You’re probably not even dressed right now, not that I assume you sleep naked, but I did read that it’s healthier to sleep in the nude, though I’ve never really tried I guess-” Felicity blushed profusely as visions of a naked Oliver sprawled out in bed and tangled up in his sheets threatened to derail her entire train of thought. 

Oliver smirked, but blessedly interrupted Felicity before she let out another stream of innuendos. “Fe-li-ci-ty, slow down. Yes, I was asleep, but it’s ok. I’m actually quite happy to hear your voice again. I’ve...missed you,” Oliver said quietly, uncertain if she felt the same way. 

Did I just hear him right? He misses me?

“Really? I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately and...I’ve missed you, too. That’s weird, right? We hardly know each other.” 

Felicity so easily put herself back into insecure territory as insecurity was a known entity and never let her down like so many people in her life, her father Noah most definitely included. Oliver was...different. For someone like her, trust was not a painless endeavor. It wasn’t granted to many, yet Felicity didn’t feel the need to put up so many roadblocks on the pathway to her heart this time.

Oliver sighed happily. “You’re not wrong, but, Felicity, I don’t care how long we’ve known each other. There’s just something about you. I hope I’m not too forward in saying this, but I think you feel it, too. I just feel like we owe it to ourselves to see where this goes. When can I see you again? I need to see you.”

“Wow, Oliver. I’m so grateful to hear you say that, because I...haven’t felt like this about someone before, definitely not this soon. I am in Nevada right now, but I’m going to be back tonight.” 

“Felicity? Why are you in Nevada?” Oliver didn’t like the sound of it. He knew exactly why she must be there, but wanted to hear her say it. An unease settled over him as he waited for her to answer. 

“I came to see my father. I needed to find out what he knows about Adrian Chase. That’s why I was going to call you, but I guess my subconscious didn’t want to wait,” Felicity sighed. “We need to talk and probably should get John involved, too.” 

“What time do you get back? I can come pick you up and maybe we could get some take out and head over to my place? O..or yours, if you’d be more comfortable,” Oliver stammered. 

“That sounds wonderful, Oliver, but I parked at the airport. How about I call you when I land and you can put in an order for us. I’ll swing by and pick it up on my way.” 

Even though they had some serious issues to discuss, not the least of which was Adrian’s next arson fire that might very well target Oliver, Felicity was hopeful that the two of them could take a little time to just exist together. And hey, maybe she’ll get a kiss out of the deal. Felicity most certainly liked that idea. 

*********  
Up next: Felicity and Oliver have a date! (A date in, but still a date ;))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for such a long wait since the last chapter! Thank you for reading! If you like the story, please leave kudos and comments. I may take a while to respond, but I promise I’m reading them. As a new writer, they really give me a lot of confidence to keep going :)


End file.
